Now, fifty years after the event, which has had an indelible, although often unrecognized, effect on my life, I wonder, and reminisce, and smile with the remembered pleasure. Does he remember too? Does the memories cause that old, familiar surging deep in his loins like they do mine? Even now I feel the lubricant begin to form on my tired, wrinkled appendage of joy as I begin this journey by written word of teenage discovery, forbidden experiences, and true knowledge of another being.
We were both eighteen when we met. He was a senior at the private school where I had, through my own stubbornness and dislike for authority, sentenced myself. Whereas he was in a private school because his family could afford it, I was there because I foolishly believed I could grab a wooden ruler out of a teacher's threatening hand and smack her across the head with it just as she had me and actually get away with it! No such luck! I had been unceremoniously dragged to the principal's office and summarily expelled from school in the beginning of my senior year. I wasn't ready to completely abandon my education so, after some investigation and tear-felt conversations with my parents; I enrolled at the diploma mill private school known as Fernhall Academy in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.
The school was small, just as Fort Lauderdale was at that time in the late fifties. There couldn't have been more than forty students in the entire school and ninety percent of them were in grade school. It turned out that Chuck, myself, and two girls were the entire senior class, so it was a given that Chuck and I would gravitate to each other. We became inseparable friends, spending most of our time in and out of school together. One wouldn't expect such a union, actually, as we were complete opposites in physical appearance. While Chuck had black hair and was outgoing, I was summer-blond and somewhat introverted.
We were both theater ushers, working at a theater on Las Olas Boulevard called "The Colony". This was in the age when theater ushers wore fancy uniforms and were often viewed by the younger girls with a certain amount of awe and flirtation. That fact was another common thing between Chuck and I...we both never failed to take advantage of the young girls infatuation, often competing with one another to see who could get to "first base" with one girl or another. I have to admit now that Chuck seemed to have better luck than I, easily winning any girl we were both trying to pick up. In retrospect, I guess it was that particular knack of his that attracted me to him, made me not only envy him, but also made me want to get closer to him. Not that I had any thoughts of homosexuality at that time...just an undefined attraction that I was not consciously aware of.
Then came the day when I became aware of that attraction--and more. It was one of those slow days in the theater. A day where few of the available seats were filled, due mostly to the fact that the film showing at that time was really terrible, a film that few people were willing to waste their fifty cents on. On such days Chuck and I would often sit in either the very top row in the balcony, just below the projector booth, and bull shit the time away. On this particular day, Chuck suggested we go sit on the stairs that led into the projector booth--a location that was completely private due to the wall separating the seating below to the entrance into the booth. I knew that Chuck had used that private spot on a few occasions when he had a chick to make out with, but it surprised me that he suggested we sit up there.
"What if we have some people come in or the manager looking for us?" I nervously asked, unsure if it was a good idea for both of us to be out of sight as we were the only two ushers on duty.
"Ah, not a problem. What fool is going to pay to see this movie?" Chuck brushed my protests aside. "I just like the privacy of up there."
Mollified, I followed Chuck up the short aisle and around the separating wall and sat down beside him on one of the carpeted steps. We sat there in silence for only a moment when Chuck began to wave his small flashlight beam around, passing it over my face a couple of times. We had been talking about one of the scenes in the movie that was showing which had a hypnotist putting a spell on one of his patients and Chuck had mentioned that he wished he could hypnotize people.
Chuck must have been thinking of the scene again as he passed the beam across my eyes a couple more times and remarked, "I bet I can hypnotize you."
With that remark, Chuck began to rhythmically move the beam back and forth across my eyes. I was amused by his actions, certain that I could not be hypnotized, and decided to play along. Although my eyes were focused straight ahead somewhere above Chucks head, I saw him move one hand down to his pants and then I heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down. I was surprised when I saw him pull his cock out and stroke it a couple of times, but I didn't reveal my surprise as he continued to move the light beam back and forth.
"Your eyes are getting heavy," Chuck whispered. "Follow the light and relax. Let yourself come under my spell. Your eyes are getting heavier and heavier. Sleep, go to sleep."
I recognized the lines from the movie and had the sudden impulse to laugh at Chuck's amateurish attempt at hypnotism, but I controlled it, curious as to where our little game was going. My peripheral vision revealed that Chuck was now actively massaging his cock, his thumb stroking across the tip, spreading a thin sheen of precum over the burgeoning head.
"You are now under my spell," Chuck droned in a soothing voice. "You will stay under my spell until I clap my hands. When I tell you to do something, you will do it without hesitation. Do you understand me?"
Playing the game, I replied in a robotic voice, "yes, sir. I understand. I will obey."
Chuck lowered the beam of light to focus on his rigid cock and commanded, "Kiss my dick."
If it wasn't for wanting to play the game to it's conclusion, I most likely would have laughed in Chuck's face at his command, as we had joked many times with a phrase something like "kiss my add". But for some reason, some reason I can't now explain other than to say that I really wanted to do as he commanded, I leaned forward and planted a closed-mouth kiss on the tip of his cock and then straightened back up. I could feel that some of his precum had transferred to my lips, but resisted the temptation to lick it off.
"Very good. You did very well. Raise your hand if you are fully under my spell," Chuck ordered.
I mechanically raised my hand, knowing to leave it raised as though I was fully under his spell and had to wait for his command to lower it.
Chuck grinned when I raised my hand. "You may lower it now. You are now going to do something that you won't remember when awakened. But when I give you the magic word 'sleep', you will once again be under my spell and do what I am going to have you do now. Do you understand? Smack your lips if you do?"
As though I truly was hypnotized, I smacked my lips in response and waited for Chuck's next command, but was surprised when he stood and pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles before sitting back down.
"Kiss my dick again, but French kiss it this time," came the order.
I began to realize that I was enjoying our little game and at the same time was feeling a stirring in my loins, my own cock beginning to stir as I bent forward and planted by open mouth on Chuck's pulsating cock, pleased when I heard him moan.
"Ummm, yeh, run your tongue around the head," Chuck whispered. "Think of it as French kissing a girl. Make love to it."
I began to run my tongue in circles around the head, tasting the slickness of Chuck's precum, appearing to flow heavier. I felt Chuck's hand rest on the back of my head as he directed, "go up and down now. Suck me. Show me that you love sucking my dick."